I Feel Quiet

Have you ever noticed that a room can have a certain feel to it? As though you could see the imprints of time, etched into its walls. Could you feel with your eyes, what your ears can no longer see?

Hushed is the room where pandemonium awaits. The Pioneer corned, amongst a wall of vinyl, begs to be played. While dances from days long past, squeeze themselves between pages of photo albums strewn about. Seductively they wait, forced to contain the chaos that once flowed so freely. Muffled is the laughter that lays upon the dust…hushed.

Silent is the room where anger lacks empathy. Cold blankets the sterileness of perfection. Here, placement is defined with ridged lines, with no allowance for movement. The sunlight does not dazzle the abandoned hope. Suppressed is uniqueness… gagged in silence.

Quiet is the room that invites you in, sharing chemistry within the familiar. As if the particles of matter begin to harmonize a soft lullaby. Warmth within its embrace is the Lazy Boy draped in cashmere. An old friend you long to visit, awaits the voyage paused within the folded page. There is serenity, that sense of peace…engulfed in quiet.

Is this how the saying “Peace and Quiet”, originated? Did someone other than me, actually feel quiet?

---